Dark Promise
by Eirien-herves vuin
Summary: Lucius Malfoy gets the chance for redemption when he rescues a fellow prisoner from a lifetime of hell in Azkaban. Will she also be his salvation? Major OOC, non-canon. LM/OC, DM/LL pairing Don't like, please don't read ;D *On Hiatus due to Health Issues*
1. Chapter 1

***Ok, I am winding down a few other fics and wanted to try something different. This is a new forum, and I just had a horrible experience in the last forum I tried to post in. :( I made sure this time that I was upfront in saying that the characters are OOC and the story is non-canon so please...don't lecture on the fine points lol! :D If anyone offers help to make me a better writer, please do so!!! But remember...you catch more people's attention with kindness than with caustic remarks on their work.**

**Enough said, If you enjoy the beginning, let me know if I should post more! Thanks to all of you!!!!!!!  
**

_**Dark Promises**_

_**A Lucius Malfoy story**_

_**Part one: Post-war, Azkaban**_

_Music, pure and sweet echoed through the household as his beautiful wife swept down the staircase toward him, love gleaming in her eyes. Laughter ruled in the Malfoy home during the time before…__**him**__. Before the Dark Lord came, putting a stain on the very soul of the name of all who were of pure wizard blood. He…who was part muggle himself…and hated all that it stood for. For now, the dream was most pleasant, a floating reminder of a peaceful and happy time with his son, Draco…and his son's true mother…but, as all dreams do, this one began to fade. The happy face of the child going first as the smiling mother took one last look into Lucius' longing, burning gaze. Then too, her laughing countenance was swept away like smoke…_

An anguished cry burst forth and woke him finally from the dream and into the nightmare. The cries and screams of agony from the men and women in the surrounding cages deafened the ears of even the most hardened of criminals in the infamous wizard prison of Azkaban. In the months following the fall of Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy had had his fill of time to ponder the wisdom of his choice of allegiance. Strangely enough it didn't take all that long to spot the error of his ways…having one's freedom ruthlessly taken away, after seeing your family treated so brutally by your former 'ally', well…that humbled a man. Humility was something Lucius was unaccustomed to, it was a feeling that was chock full of contradictions. He was repulsed, yet intoxicated by it…revolted, yet relieved. If he could feel humbled, there was still hope for his black heart, all was not lost…all he had to do now was survive.

A rattle and clang alerted him to a newcomer on the block. All along his row of cells hands were outstretched for messages, for mercy, for food…for death. Dementors followed closely behind the Ministry officials who dragged between them a frightened woman, pulling her sharply when she struggled against them frantically shaking her head. A cold, dank breeze followed in the dark footsteps of the terrible beasts' paths, bringing the scents of decomposition and decay wafting through the area. Lucius watched in fascination as the men prepared the cell next to his for her use and attempted to force her into it. She clung onto the arm of the wizard closest to her staring into the tiny room as though a legion of demons awaited within. _They will not protect you, sweet one. _He nearly laughed aloud at the thought. He leaned negligently against the bars and partook of the evening's entertainment with barely concealed amusement as the 'holier than god' men had to get themselves dirty to wrestle the poor wretch into her hole. _The next time Draco and Luna come to visit, I'll see what they can find out about her case…_he thought as he watched her thrash about. She did it with a silence so profound, and that made it all the more disturbing for him. Something felt...off, and he would find out what it was.

Draco, Harry, and the others were working on his case before the Ministry, there was no reason why he shouldn't check out her story as well. He needed something to keep himself distracted or he would very soon go stark raving mad. Yes, he would see what Draco could dig up…then, unless she did something horrible, he would help her out. A wry twist of his lips had the familiar sneer back on his aristocratic face, albeit for his own sake…the great Death Eater helping a fellow prisoner, who would've dreamed?

* * *

Meresel sank onto her haunches in the far corner of her cell, wrapping her thin arms around her knees and tried to stop shaking. How had her life come to this? She looked around the shadows with wide terrified eyes, breath hitching. All of the horror stories whispered about this place were true…she could feel…sense the despair, the anguish of the men and women who occupied each square inch of this place. Their emotions crashed through her heightened extrasensory awareness like a freight train threatening to destroy the last visages of whatever thread of sanity she had left. Voices raised in anger and madness, cackling laughter, moans of completion from self-stimulation, all of these things buffeted her mind as she struggled to integrate it. Helpless, she strained to scream from a useless throat, stripped of the voice by a cruel hand, and all that came out was a wordless soft keening…breathless and gut wrenching. After what seemed like hours, she fell to her side…and, finally exhausted…slept.

* * *

Lucius sat…stunned…on the other side of the wall. He had used Legilimency to ease into her mind so he could see if he could find out something that could tell him more about her. What he didn't expect was the blast of psychic energy her mind put out. Merlin's beard, she was a magnet for EPE…Empathic Psychical Energy, something the Order was currently secretly funding research on. Literally, she was a lightning rod for the emotions and thoughts of others…and had little to no protective shields to help protect her own fragile psyche. He felt her isolation, her fear, her loneliness as though it were his own. Hell, he'd recognized it immediately as he'd felt the same isolation for years…longer than he cared to remember.

* * *

A few days later, at the Ministry of Magic, Harry pulled all the information he could on the trial and confinement of the young lady. As the Head Auror, he had certain privileges, one of which was being able to access the offices late at night unmolested. Draco Malfoy and his wife of two weeks, Luna, stood next to him as he shuffled through the 'official' documents for Lucius.

"As I expected, nothing helpful here…just Ministry clap-trap and smoke screen." He handed the parchments off to Draco, who wrapped a strong arm around his spouse and they perused the trumped up charges of wrongful use of magic and malicious destruction of Ministry property. "It's plain to see they've put a glamour spell on it, these charges against Meresel are complete rubbish. These would've been cleared up by the payment of a Galleon or two in fines…not a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban!"

"It does sound indeed as if the Ministry were being overrun by _Blue-bellied Hornswankles_." At the blank stares of both her affectionately amused spouse, and childhood friend, she smoothly continued. "My father once interviewed a man down in Australia who was bedeviled of such beings. They are known to bewitch your mind and cause all manner of mischief. I would not be at all surprised if one did not complete that parchment you hold, my love. It seems such a _Hornswankle_ thing to do, does it not?" She looked at him with such earnest endearment that he had to chuckle and buss her on the cheek.

His look was soft and filled with love when he replied "Indeed it is. In fact it wouldn't surprise me a bit if we were to catch one red handed…or is it red pawed ma' dear?"

"Oh, finned. They are water creatures, sweetheart. Hmm…I guess that would preclude them from being in the Ministry then…I'm sorry, Harry, I wish that I could be of more help…" she trailed off wistfully.

Up to this point, Harry had been observing this exchange between 'Loony' Lovegood Malfoy and his old nemesis with fascination. Two such diametric opposites coming together and making a lasting combination? Laughable! Inconceivable! He grinned, these two, well…damn…they just might beat the odds.

He knew from late night bull sessions with Malfoy that the story of their courtship was a saga in and onto itself…worthy of the great satirist of Muggle literature himself…Shakespeare. Even he would have been hard pressed not to find the humor behind the tragedy that was the beginning of their relationship. That, however is an entirely different story. For now, he concentrated on the elder Malfoy's case…the re-trial was set for the following month, a laughably short time for both prudent preparation and the investigation of the mysterious young woman.


	2. Chapter 2

***ok, before the PMs come in, or the reviews show up, I know that you can't do magic in Azkaban...it is a prison for wizards...but if you think about it, he was a Death Eater and a powerful wizard. In prisons today, guards are bribed all the time to allow certain...er...privileges to some prisoners. I think it would be likely that Lucius could have bribed an official to let him do magic... **

_**Part Two: Post-war, After Azkaban**  
_

The sweetly melancholy song of the nightingale wafted through the open French doors of Lucius' study on the main floor of the Malfoy mansion. Leaning back in his soft leather office chair; the tall, blonde haired wizard breathed in great lung full's of fresh country air as he thanked the gods that his genius of a son had managed to spring him from the hell that had been his home for the past six months. All in all he was in remarkably good shape for enduring unspeakable cruelty for so long. A lingering pallor still hung over his skin, like an omen of death…his weight considerably under what it should have been, given his height and physical fitness prior incarceration. Nightmares ruled his slumber, making even the briefest of naps all but impossible; hence the dark circles under his eyes and the exhaustion plaguing every move…every thought.

Already awake half the night, he decided to get some work done on Meresel's case…unfortunately she was still in Azkaban, still locked in that personal torment that comes with being an empath. Huffing out a breath, he thought back to their first 'conversation'.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

It had been around midnight when the girl awoke abruptly, the only signs being restless movements and quick, harsh breathing. The reason Lucius knew the time was that one guard called it out to another when asked. After enduring the guttural wheezing for a few moments, he sat next to the cell opening as close to hers as possible and just…talked. He talked about anything and everything, from the day he first met Draco's mother 'til he was forced to give her up to marry Narcissa at the Dark Lord's bidding just prior to the first fall. He told her about those dark years when the Imperius Curse compelled his obedience to the exclusion of all else, to the death of Voldemort at the hand of the Boy Who Is Not So Bad After All, and the incredible freedom of the mind he experienced. In time her breathing smoothed out and he could sense her listening.

"I am going to put my hand through the bars now, can you touch it?" he queried. She glanced to her left and saw a pale, thin arm with a gracefully masculine hand attached stretching toward her cell door. With a gasp she thrust her own out and clutched at it, wordlessly whining in frustration when her reach fell short. Scooting closer to their prospective bars, they both reached again and nearly cried in relief when their hands met and grasped, holding tight…oh, the pure joy of another human's touch…

Just how long they stayed like that, neither knew. He could hear her stifled sobs and softly squeezed her hand in comfort. "It will be alright. Please, miss…try to calm yourself. Can you speak?" The strangled sounds that followed as she valiantly strove to do as he'd asked still haunted his dreams to this day. Closing his eyes against the onslaught of pain and rage at the unforgivable acts of cruelty mankind so recklessly doled out to one another, he hastened to reassure her that speech was not necessary. "I had a cousin, she was on my mother's side, who could not hear. She learned to speak with her hands. Would you like me to show you how?"

The girl had squeezed his hand tightly, and he'd taken that as a sign of agreement to his suggestion. Painstakingly, for they could not see each other clearly as their cell doors were side by side, he taught her basic signs for over a month by touch alone…enough to communicate on a rough basis.

_**End Flashback**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

His re-trial had gone as expected with detractors yelling for his continued imprisonment, and a surprising number of supporters…including the Weasleys, as well as the Potters and Ron and Hermione. A fair number of others from the Order came to see the outcome, and ended up in support of his dismissal, after Harry made a very convincing witness in his favor. It took time, however, and he took that time to continue working with Meresel, gaining her trust and gleaning as much information as he could. On his last day of imprisonment, her quiet anguish tore his heart to shreds.

"Sweetheart, I am working on a way to get you out of here, I promise. Please, don't give up…" his own voice cracked, because in a very significant way, she had been his salvation too. By focusing on her and her needs, he hadn't had the time to sit idle, hadn't gone barking mad, and wonder of wonders…had discovered that a capacity for kindness, decency and love was still within his black soul.

"I will be back for you…" he lay his hand on the wall between their cells and, wandlessly, made an unbreakable vow. The magic swirled around him and between them, like a caress. Then Harry and Draco were there to fetch him, and she was alone again in the hellhole she called home.


	3. Chapter 3

***I do like Tolkien's LotR, although not the the...er...extent of some of his more fanatical fans. :D I did borrow some of his language concepts for my elven folk. If you are among those who are proficient in the ancient language of the elves, please forgive any potential boo boos! :)**

_**Part Three: Hope springs**_

With each day that passed, each week, and finally…the passage of the month…it became apparent to Meresel that he had forgotten his promise, or had merely been using her for some strange purpose of his own. She finally, inevitably just gave up…and the fade began. She began to lose interest in the voices, the sounds of the cries and the ramblings of madmen. Instead, she found herself hearing only the soft whoosh of her own blood as it flowed through her veins, and the slow thump, thump of her heart as it beat in her chest. Showing no enthusiasm for food, or drink…opting to lay on the filthy cot and stare at the opposite wall, she wistfully conjured up visions of the tree-filled forests of her mother's home. Slowly…slowly…her skin grew cooler, her face lost any color it once held, time ceased to exist…and she was soon near death.

* * *

Harry and Draco were closeted with Lucius, going over the case one last time. "So, she is part-elven. Her mother was an elf, her father a powerful psychic…" Harry began.

"She can read others thoughts and emotions as though she were an antennae." Lucius agreed. "She cannot remain in that filth any longer. If we fail this time…"

"Father, we won't." Draco put a comforting hand on Lucius' arm. He put his free one up to grasp his son's hand gratefully in both of his.

"You are a great comfort to me, my son. I could ask for none better. And you…" here he turned to Harry. "To have taken up this crusade for one who showed no mercy toward you…"

Harry waved that aside. "You were not yourself. Thank Severus if you must, it was he who freed you from the curse, and gave all of us the true Malfoy's back. Now, how can we get in touch with her family?"

The planning, research and plotting went on into the night.

* * *

The morning came with help from an unexpected source. "Draco, I may know where the girl's family is." Used to being abruptly awakened by his adoring spouse, Draco rolled over and squinted at the clock.

"Darling, it's a quarter past four in the bloody morning. Can't this wait?" Seeing her eyes turn glassy with unshed tears, he silently cursed himself for being a sod, and pulled her roughly against him. "Well, since you have me 'up' so to speak, you really should do something about it…" his casual smirk didn't have her fooled for a second. She knew he regretted his impulsive words, and she kicked herself for being so easily moody these days.

She purred into his ear and latched onto his mouth with a voracity that still threw a pleasant shock into his system every time she did it. Gods, that witch could kiss…_and she's all mine!_ He threaded his hands through her fine, golden hair and fisted it, pulling gently until her throat was exposed for him to ravish. Making a throaty hum deep within, she arched invitingly…requesting more, and receiving it in spades from her adoring spouse. Trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, he popped open the buttons to her demure nightgown…_gods he loved this_ _feeling, almost as though he were taking her for the very first time_…each inch of creamy skin exposed was summarily admired, cosseted, and adored with hands, mouth…teeth, tongue. Skimming his hands down her flat stomach, he tangled his fingers in her dewy, downy curls as he teased her rosy nipples into stiff peaks with avid lips. Panting, she spread her legs in open invitation to his intimate exploration, and he was humbled anew at the trust shining in her azure gaze. Within a few deft strokes she was reduced to mindless whimpers and begging and he closed his eyes, hoping he had her sufficiently ready for ravishment. Sliding between thighs widely outstretched to cradle him, he slid gently in…cupping her face lovingly between his large hands.

"Luna…Merlin, I love you…" his voice was ragged as he fought for control.

She gasped and rose to meet his loving thrusts. "Ahh…Draco! My dragon…I love you…so…muuuchhh…Draco!!!!" At his last deep thrust she careened over the last peak and fell, taking him with her.

Exhausted, tangled in a damp, sated heap; she drowsily said again, "I know where to find Meresel's family."

"Mmmm…" said Draco, clearly not listening. Then miraculously, the words penetrated his post-coital bliss. "Wait…what? Why the hell didn't you say so?" He sat straight up, dumping her unceremoniously onto the bed. "Well, where are they…out with it, woman!"

"Draco Malfoy! You know better than to use that tone with me!" The fire in her eyes had him relenting.

"Love, tell me please…" he began to kiss her hand playfully, making her laugh. "Alright you cad…they're on the island of Aoibheann, off the coast of Ireland." Immediately, he relinquished her hand and jumped off the bed.

"Now what are you doing, Draco? I thought that you said it was too damned early in the morning…" she said grumpily.

"That was before you said where they were…" he raced around the room, pulling clothes on as he went. Suddenly, he stopped, noticing that she wasn't moving. "What are you doing just sitting there! Come on!"

"I didn't know if you would want me to come…" and for an instant he saw the old insecurity in her eyes that she tried so hard to hide…especially from him.

He crawled back onto the bed and wrapped her tightly in his embrace. "There is no one…no one…I'd rather be with right now, than you." He tipped her chin so she had to look into his eyes. "I love you, Luna Lovegood Malfoy, with all my heart and soul. You are my breath and my life, without you I would cease to exist." He kissed her lovingly on the lips and lay his forehead on hers. Gazing into those gentle blue eyes of hers he said, "Now, will you join me willingly or do I have to Imperius you?" The soft smile on his lips had her scrambling to join him, dressing in record time.

* * *

After they were joined in Lucius' study by the man himself and a very sleepy Harry, Draco put his hand on his wife's shoulder and bade her to continue their discussion from that morning.

"I know where to find her family…at least, I'm pretty sure it's a good start. My father…" here her voice faltered, her father had died eighteen months previous and she was still mourning his loss. Draco lightly squeezed her shoulder in response and kissed her temple.

"Go on, luv…" he said quietly.

"My father once found a small colony of elven folk living on an island off the coast of Ireland. They kept mostly to themselves, however, a few of the children and grandchildren had taken human spouses and moved onto the mainland. Da met with an elf named Tórben. It could be a relative of hers, there isn't many elves left in the world…many of them have left for their true home Valinor. But a remnant remains. Perhaps we may contact them?"

The men stared at her in amazement. "Can you do this?" Harry asked. "How do we contact them?"

"Why, by Floo of course, silly. My father and I have kept in contact with Tórben and his family over the years. But until this morning, I must confess, I hadn't put two and two together…I am terribly sorry." She dropped her eyes and bit her lip. "Indeed, I had no idea she was elven. Once I heard, it was a quick connection…" Lucius rose and went at once to his daughter-in-law, placing a warm hand under her chin to raise it. Looking into her tentative blue gaze, he smiled and said,

"Thank you, ma dear, for all you have done for myself and for Meresel. You are priceless to my son, and that makes you a treasure to me." He kissed her flushed cheek and inquired, "can you make that call immediately do you think?"

She looked at the clock and nodded. "They will be rising now. What do you want me to ask?" After they batted around ideas on what to say, she took the written paper slip and put her head into the open Floo. They heard her muffled voice as she patiently explained things to the recipients of the call.

By nine thirty that morning, they were met by the elven great-uncle of the one they needed to help. When called, he immediately contacted the rest of the family and bade them gather in one spot to greet the newcomers for news of the child.

The small group had apparated immediately to the coordinates provided by the elf and his wife, meeting them first in the small village where they kept a quaint little cottage.

"_Guren linna gen cened (1)_, young Luna." The ellon was tall and stately, with hair that rivaled Lucius' in golden spendor and eyes that were a silver-blue. His wife was similar in both stature and beauty, their demeanor being both elegant and timeless. "You have come with news of our Meresel?"

"_Lû and gwannant (2)._ We have, however it is not happy news Tórben." She glanced at Draco as she said this, and he came over to stand by her for support. At his encouraging look, she continued. "She has for some time been held a prisoner in the wizarding prison of Azkaban."

His wife, Merenwen gasped at this news and held her husband's hand. "Why, what have they said she has done to warrant such punishment as this?"

Here, Lucius took over narrative. "My lord and lady, I came to be acquainted with your…er…niece, during my own stay at the aforementioned institution. While I, regrettably, deserved punishment for certain crimes committed…" here Harry and Draco both cleared their throats loudly. "If I may continue…your kinswoman most assuredly did not. It was brought to our attention that she is possessed of certain…ah…talents. Gifts, rather. In our world they should've been celebrated…but some bigoted fool had her imprisoned because she couldn't, or wouldn't give him what he asked for. Merlin's beard! If I had such a woman…she would be my greatest treasure…" the last was spoken under his breath, but those standing around him could hear clearly. The elves were startled, they'd never considered that a human would react so…positively to an elven maiden who had been considered an oddity in both worlds.

Tórben narrowed his eyes. This may be the answer they were looking for.

* * *

They went by magical boat to the island itself and it seemed as though every elf were on hand to greet them. All were as visually stunning as Tórben and Merenwen with the same silver blonde hair and silver gray eyes. They were a graceful and peaceful people, choosing to live in harmony with Mother Earth herself. The leader of this particular group glided up to greet their guests. She was at least six and a half feet tall, with Veela blood in her as well as elven. Tresses the color of moonlight graced a long and elegant profile and eyes the color of the deepest forest glade bade the visitors welcome from their journey.

"I am Lady Branwen, come and sit with us. We must speak of our dear one," her musical tones fell pleasantly on Lucius' ears as he followed the company of elven lords and ladies to their homes, "she has long been shielded from our sight."

The stately abodes bore a striking resemblance to the intricate and stunning architecture of elvish History. The structures were unique and elegant with rooms bearing comfortable furnishings and an open-air plan that let in freshness and sunlight. Gossamer material floated at window and door to afford privacy, yet allowed maximum air and light to pour forth. Reclining on a comfortable divan, Lady Branwen gestured to her guests bidding them to sit and relax. Watching his wife converse easily with the graceful woodland people made Draco both proud and, perversely envious, for it was something he couldn't do. The lovely elvish tongue flowed freely from her lips as she gave them what news of the girl she could.

Lucius let the musical tones of the language wash over him as he sat in what was undoubtedly the equivalent of the English Drawing Room. A place for entertaining guests, or perhaps dignitaries? The Lady Branwen turned to Lucius and said, "I believe it is to you I must extend our thanks. Were it not for you, we would not have known of the plight of our little bird. _Le hannon, le na vellyn (3)." _

He turned a questioning gaze to his daughter-in-law. She quickly explained his ignorance, "_E ú-bêd i lam-in-edhil…(4)" _ turning back to Lucius she said, "Lady Branwen thanks you most sincerely and reassures you that we are among friends here." He graciously bowed his head and accepted her thanks, saying only "It is I who will be most grateful, my Lady, to receive any offer of assistance in getting Meresel out of the hell that is Azkaban. She will not survive long, I fear. Please…I beg of you…do not delay…" his voice broke without warning and he had to rise and turn away, fisting his hands to his sides to keep from striking the wall in frustration at the delay.

A soft, delicate hand touched his arm. Turning, he gazed down into the brimming eyes of his son's wife. Accepting her comfort, he wrapped her tight in his embrace, closing his eyes for a moment before releasing her and touching her cheek in thanks. Turning, he murmured his apologies. "Nay, Lucius. You hold our dear one in such high regard, we cannot but hold you as well. You shall have your aid. My most trusted advisors will accompany you back to your world. _Avo drasto le, garo amdir(5)."_

_ 1. My heart sings to see you._

_ 2. It has been too long (a long time has passed)_

_3. I thank you (Formal), you are with friends (Formal)_

_ 4. He does not speak the language of the elves_

_5. Don't trouble yourself, have hope._

_***I haven't gotten any reviews so far, although there have been many of you that have graciously stopped to read...thank you all who did :)...I'm not sure what that means, but I'll do a couple more chapters to show you where I'm taking the story. Hopefully then you'll have a better idea of the plot bunnies' intentions. lol Have fun, and happy reading!**  
_


	4. Chapter 4

***I've gotten requests to continue, so here's more folks. Hopefully it gives more of a taste of what's to come. I'm disappointed that I didn't capture as much attention with this fic as I have with others...I'll have to rethink the premise maybe...**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading, think about stopping off at the green button below and leave me some feedback.**

**Plot bunnies are almost out of food. lol :D  
**

_**Part 4: Freedom?**_

Sweeping into the Ministry of Magic building with a contingent of Elves was a sure fire way to get noticed on a dreary fall day in merry old England. Lucius put on his very best pureblood sneer just for the occasion, one rivaled by each of the Lady's advisory committee. Damned if the whole lot of them didn't come across as prissy as the pureblood elitists! He was proud to be one of them today, marching alongside of Draco, Harry and Luna.

Witches and wizards leaped out of the way of the lot as they strode with steady purpose toward the offices of the Minister of Magic. Percy Weasley was busy at his desk, scribbling away with a quill as his secretary took notes for an upcoming meeting with the Whizengamot. Lucius thrust his way through the office doors, totally ignoring the wizened old wizard pushing his way out the other side. "Oh, I say…"

"Where is the Minister?" thundered Malfoy.

Percy's secretary had run out of the inner office the moment she'd heard the wards go off on the doors. "Oh, my…I don't know…"

Realizing she would be of no use, he thrust her at Harry and strode toward the inner sanctum. Draco followed, a smirk already on his handsome face. The Elven council sedately passed the astonished witch and joined the two men in the cowered behind his desk, hoping in vain that no one would see him there when a strong, masculine hand thrust into the back of his robes and lifted him out. "What's the matter Percy, cat got your tongue?" He found himself gazing into Harry's green glittering gaze.

Percy began to stammer. And stutter. All denials of course. No, he wasn't trying to hide, he'd dropped something. No, he hadn't realized someone was here, he would've greeted them. And above all else, no…no one had told him that there was an elven princess in Azkaban!!! This matter would of course be rectified immediately!!! He would see to it that she was afforded the best possible representation…and if she were to be found innocent, then of course she would be set free…

Lucius saw red. "If…IF!! Why you pompous, arrogant prick…and you call yourself enlightened!" he grabbed Percy by the front of his robes, lifting him onto the tips of his toes until he squeaked. "You had better write her a release form NOW or by God, I will leave you to your fate with her protectors."

By the time he was done with his diatribe, Percy was red faced and wheezing with a look of such horror on his countenance that both Harry and Draco found it hard not to ruin the moment by cracking up.

One look at the stoic and stern countenances of the elven warriors had Percy second guessing resistance. Heaving a great sigh, as though he were giving in to a difficult child, he nodded once in agreement and walked stiffly past Lucius to the Floo. Placing a quick call to the wizard in charge of cataloguing incoming prisoners, Percy gave him hell for not informing him of the social status of the inmate in question. To curtail another lengthy diatribe, as it was turning out to be just that, Harry rudely interrupted their mutual "blame everybody but me" session and demanded to see the _elleth (1) _immediately.

"She could be in real danger, Percy. We _must_ leave, it is imperative that her people tend to her _now_…" he could see that Lucius was getting more and more anxious by the second, and didn't want to be blamed if the man went off and hexed Percy into oblivion. Hell, he was tempted to do it himself…

Percy harrumphed and lifted a supercilious nose into the air as he walked out of his office and down the dingy hallway toward one of the public Floo's…which would transport them into the very heart of the most feared institution in the entire wizarding kingdom.

* * *

The wizard who could name himself the 'warden' of Azkaban was a very unlucky wizard indeed. It was a thankless job that had few benefits and loads of responsibilities and expectations, some of which required him to do things that he would just as soon forget, for if he dwelt on them he should go mad with despair and regret. One of those "things" was currently residing on Cell Block #49. She was such a young and fresh thing once, lovely tragic eyes boring holes into his conscious when he marched her to her cell next to that pure-blood elitist Lucius Malfoy.

Now, this self-same wizard was trembling with fear, racing through his office, cramming papers and recriminating files into a large bag he'd transfigured out of a wing-backed chair. Muttering to himself, he stopped long enough to pat his person, looking in vain for something he'd obviously misplaced.

"Looking for this, Johnson?" an amused drawl came from the direction of his fireplace. Jumping, he turned to face none other than Malfoy himself, resplendent in Slytherin green dress robes, silver-blonde locks caught back in a leather band. In his hand was a wand…_**his wand**_.

Deciding to play it tough, he said "Give it to me, Lucius. You are not permitted a wand yet, it's part of your parole agreement. Or do you want to return? We can find more…accommodating…living quarters."

Lucius merely smirked and replied snidely "Tempting…but as much as I'd love to, I'll have to decline your offer. You see, we're here to get my future wife out of here…" he chuckled when he saw the flabbergasted look on the man's face, really it was like stealing candy from a baby. "Yes, you daft prick…the future wife of what is considered still one of the wealthiest wizards in Great Britain today. Ah, Percy…show this good fellow your orders of absolvement, there's a good chap."

He shoved Percy ahead and the two discussed Meresel's release. Through it all the elven contingent remained impassive, yet watchful and prepared. Finally, the men beckoned the others to follow and they all entered the vast inner sanctum of intersecting cell blocks of human misery and malcontent. As they walked, memories assailed Lucius from all sides; the sights, odors, and sounds of suffering pounded his senses. His mind reeled at the onslaught and he had to stop a moment and collect himself.

"Father?" Draco was by his side in a second, hand at the ready, his presence bringing with it warmth, love and that…that steadied him.

He smiled into his son's eyes, "I'm alright now, son. Thank you, the memories…you helped just now. Thank you." He brought his hand up to Draco's shoulder and squeezed lightly, sharing a moment of bonding that they'd nearly missed out on, with all of those years lived in the shadow of so much hate.

The journey resumed when Lucius was ready, and soon he was facing his old cell. For a moment he stood in quiet terror that this was all just a horrible hoax…made up by the Potter boy for the purpose of placing him back in here for the last time. He shook himself clear of the vision and abruptly turned, following the others into the adjoining cell.

* * *

_**In the wood between worlds**_

_The birds sang so sweetly in the trees. She could feel the sun's warmth stronger than before…her corporeal body's hold over her spirit was weakening…soon, soon she would leave this plane of existence and join with her ancestors in the Land of no sorrow. _

_A grassy meadow stretched open a break in the trees, lightly sprinkled with wildflowers. It beckoned her come and sit awhile, to rest her weary feet and ease her troubled thoughts. With a smile, she acquiesced, entering the quiet space and sinking into the lush, soft , sweet smelling grass. The sun's rays lulled her into a half-doze, broken only by the darkening of a shadow across her vision. Opening her eyes she beheld the visage of the most beautiful elven Queen she'd ever imagined. She had long golden curls that graced her lithe figure with a waterfall of shimmery light. Her attire was a simple sheath of white gauze that floated in the warm balmy breezes that fluttered the leaves._

"_Le suilannon, bereth vuin. Le sí am man theled?(2)" Meresel asked._

_The regal elleth replied "Av-'osto__,__ ni sí gen laithiad__.__ Telo na nin, hên beren(3)." Then turning, she all but melted into the brightness of the day. _

_Following the elegant figure as quickly as she could, Meresel couldn't help but ask the obvious question "Am mas ledhil(4)?"_

_Catching but glimpses of the filmy fabric fluttering in the gentle wind, Meresel picked up her pace trying to meet up to the beautiful queen. _

_Breathlessly she asked the retreating form "Mas ledhim an? Daro! Tíro nin! Le iallon…(5)"_

_The beautiful elleth halted and turned then, moved by her entreaty. "Goheno nin, hên vuin(6)." Here she gently stroked the side of Meresel's cheek. "Ni si an edraith achen. Boe an edraith achen(7)?"_

_The younger elleth looked around at the wonders of the wooded glade and pondered the question. Did she really need to be 'saved' from this paradise? What was there in the great lands beyond the forest which could tempt her to abandon the wafting winds and gleeful chorus of the feathered choir? Ready to deny her would be benefactor, a picture popped into her head of a gaunt, haunted visage with silver-blonde tresses and a deep whiskey colored voice. A voice which calmed nightmares and forced the voices and sounds in her head to hasten on their journey into the abyss from whence they came. A voice which…even now, she could hear in the breeze…as though he were the very image of the wind itself, speaking to her through its blustering and stirring._

_A fierce longing to see his face overwhelmed her then, nearly bringing her to her knees. "Leithio nin, cerithon iest lîn.(8)"_

_The smile on her face lit up her eyes like the sunlit sky. Gently, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on Meresel's forehead. "Do not fear, child. He waits for you, yearns for you. Do not forsake love because of what you suffered. This man is chosen for you, allow him the gift of your heart and it will bring healing to you both._

_Trees and dappled sunlight began to fade as though a shadow drifted over the sun. She felt a momentary panic as she tried to hold on to her perfect little oasis from the pain of reality, but a soft caress of a smooth hand calmed her and all else faded to black._

_(1) female elf_

_(2) I greet you, beloved Queen. Why have you come?_

_(3) Do not fear, I am here to release you. Come with me, little child._

_(4) Where are you going?_

_(5) Where do we go to? Stop! Look at me! I beg of you…_

_(6) Forgive me, beloved child_

_(7) I am here to save you. Do you need to be saved?_

_(8) Release me, I will do your wish."_

_

* * *

  
_

Lucius took one look at Meresel and nearly fell to his knees. She was still wearing the dress she'd been brought in with some ten months prior and it was so filthy that it stuck to her skin in some places. She was so emaciated that she was a literal skeleton held together by skin, and her back was riddled with bedsores as she'd been lying down for the latter half of her sentence.

He knelt beside her cot and stroked a cold, cold cheek. Calling her name, he stared into those vacant eyes…cursing God, himself, and all manner of others for deserting her in her hour of need.

"Meresel, Merie…please, come back love. I'm here, I've come back with some of your people and we are getting you out. Please…"

He continued in this vein until his son began to gently pull him away, believing there was nothing left to do. He resisted, grabbing her hand in his and signing _please come back to me, I love you _into her hand. For a moment, her eyes seemed to focus…then she gasped.

"Lucius…" she tried to sit up, but was too weak. The advisors to her people quickly came to her side. A tall, regal statured elf administered the healing potions that Severus Snape had given them. She sputtered and her stomach threatened upheaval, but in all she kept it down.

When she was comfortable, he wrapped her in his cloak and carried her to the Apparition Room in the main Visitor section of the building. Percy was still squawking behind them, until he heard one elf murmur to another that the man speaks so loud, the elves could shoot him in the dark.

Within the hour she was safely ensconced in a bed at St. Mungos. But her nightmare was far from over.


	5. Chapter 5

***Many thanks to all who have read and reviewed! As with most authors, it makes so much of a difference to know that there is someone out there willing to take some extra time to brighten someone else's day!**

**Bless you again and again!  
**

_**Part 5: Renewal**_

He sat by her side for hours, watching her for any sign of awakening from the deep sleep that Head Medi-Witch Poppy Pomfrey was forced induce in order to treat her wounds and various infections. She was assisted by one of the stately elves, who was a Healer in his own right, and knew the unique biological makeup of an elf...had Poppy not availed herself of his services…it was likely she would've given Merie something that was mild on a human, but deadly to an _elleth(1)._

She took this opportunity to learn, because if Lucius had his way…Meresel would be staying…and Poppy would most likely be the one treating her, and Elves, while sharing a similar physical form as humans, had a completely different genetic makeup. Together with Severus Snape they worked to come up with the proper potions that would accomplish their goals without compromising her health. She was put into a deep restorative slumber to allow for the body's own natural healing properties to come forth, and then her condition was assessed.

Poppy was appalled at her condition when she was first brought in. Lucius had apparated directly into her tiny office…she did miss the size of her quarters at Hogwarts, but the pay and perks were better here…and she'd looked up in surprise when he appeared with a *pop*.

"Good Heavens, Lucius!" was all she could get out before she got a good look at the bundle he carried. All business now, she'd said with calm authority, "Examination Room 5." And led the way.

The young lady had to have her clothing cut off of her using a spell designed for such things…the gown that she wore must have been pretty once…but time, sweat and unwashed skin had rendered it unrecyclable. It stuck to her soft skin in vulnerable places and, where it rubbed, left open wounds to fester in others. Murmuring the healing charms she painstakingly worked covering every inch of the girl's body.

Fascinated, the elder _ellon(2) _who had come to help watched the tiny witch with the compassionate eyes. Elrond was his name, and he had to admit…the small woman intrigued him, unlike any other in his long span of years. Medi-witch Pomfrey was a walking contradiction…she was long in the years of men, and yet carried herself like a woman of much younger years. She had training that surpassed even the most gifted of Healers. And there was something about her…something that spoke of secrets, wonderful and magical secrets… Determination filled him, he must learn the answers to her mysteries.

* * *

Two weeks into the treatment they had imposed upon her, she finally awoke…dazed and disoriented to find that Elrond was sitting quietly by her side. Upon hearing her, he rose quickly to sit on the bed.

"Meresel. _Ce maer(3)?" _ he ran a hand through her tangle of curls and smiled at the astonished look on her face.

"_Man ceril hí(4)?" _her voice held a tearful question in it, and he had to close his eyes against a sudden constriction in his chest. She was still holding on to the hope that her parents would embrace her again…hadn't really meant it when they told her she was no longer their daughter. She had begun to manifest her psychic abilities at a relatively young age for an elf…and this new ability had placed her in a league far removed from the rest of the colony, this fact threatening the social standing of her parents. They chose to sacrifice her…and keep their social network.

She had run far, and fast in order to escape the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness that threatened her very sanity. Everywhere she went, the emotions, thoughts and feelings of others nearly overwhelmed her with the volume and frequency. No sanctuary had delivered on it's offer of safe haven from the world and it's many demands on her psyche. And then…_he_ found her.

Tall in stature, bred in the aristocracy of the wizarding world, Sir Alistair Blackthorne was the quintessential English gentleman when he made his offer of protection to a distraught and overwhelmed young girl (or so he surmised at the time). He played his part brilliantly, having been born a natural actor with a lying tongue. With no experience of the existence of such evil, she believed every word uttered from those false lips and went with him…ultimately to her doom, for the purpose of his desire was soon made quite clear…she was to find out whether he still inherited his dying Grandfather's considerable estate, and when the old coot would pass out of this life and get on with the next.

Unfortunately for Meresel, the gift of foresight does not work on command…especially if the psychic is under duress, or an undue amount of stress. As the weeks grew into months, and the months into a year, Sir Alistair's patience grew thin enough to finally snap. The catalyst was on the night the elderly gentleman died, the will was read…and the bulk of the estate was divided among the servants who had loyally stood with their master, tending to his every need. Enraged that he knew nothing of this change of will until _after_ the old codgers death, he turned on the small _elleth_, hauling her off to Azkaban and charging her with grand theft.

* * *

Memory can be a painful thing. Elrond saw the emotions flit across her face as they danced through her head when she noticed he wasn't answering her right away. His eyes were solemn, and sad. He hated to see sorrow in the little sparrow.

"_Ni sí nestad gen,_ Meresel. _Anírach nen?(5)" _He stood, and walked with stately grace to the table by the wall that held a pitcher and cups.

"No, please…Lord Elrond…" he turned at the plea in her voice, and placed his chair closer to the side of the bed. "My family…will they not…relent? Has there been no change?"

He gathered her hand in his, and gave it a light squeeze. "My child, you must not judge too harshly. Your sire and his spouse come from a long line of Eldar that have remained unchanged for two thousand years or more. Having a special daughter…well, they will not see the simple beauty in that." He paused to wipe the tears that were coursing down her flawless cheeks. "Rest now. Your Lucius will be quite angry if he saw you crying."

Obediently, she lay down and curled up in a tight little ball…a study in melancholy and sadness. Outside the door to her room, Lucius stood transfixed, struck to the core by her story. Then rage began to build within him…if he ever got a look at her worthless parents… Turning on his heel, he strode over to a working floo and contacted Harry to ask him to investigate the matter further.

"…yes, that should about do it. What did you say the name of the person was that had her put into the prison?" he asked Potter.

"Sir Alistair Blackthorne. Does that name ring any bells?" Harry must have seen him blanche.

"I'll let you know…" he replied vaguely. _Oh, my god…what could he_ _possible want with her_…

* * *

_ 1. female elf_

_ 2. male elf_

_ 3. Are you feeling well?_

_ 4. What are you doing here? _

_5.I've come to heal you. Do you wish some water? _


	6. Chapter 6

***Finally...time for some Lucius Lovin'! And if you say you're not reading this fic for that reason...you are _NOT_ telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...so help me JK Rowling!!!**

**_*To encourage people to leave reviews, I plan to divulge a bit of gossip that even Lucius doesn't know. Leave me feedback and I will PM you with the details...you are going to get the chance to be a part of this story!_  
**

**_Part Six: Paradise_**

The remainder of her convalescence was to take place at Malfoy Manor, Lucius insisted on it. He spent most of his waking hours traveling the Floo network between St. Mungos and his home making sure all the necessities were taken care of for her health and security…he still had trouble believing she was really safe, that he had succeeded in rescuing her from the torture that was Azkaban. He knew she still suffered cruelly from horrific nightmares that stemmed from her confinement, and hoped that the stay near the gardens, lake and woods outside the Manor would ease her troubled spirit.

He had the chamber directly next to his fixed up for her use, making sure that the connecting door between was unlocked and unfettered. Darkly amused, he caught the twist of disapproval on the old house-elf that had belonged to Narcissa's family for generations' face…_old bat, I don't need your approval! Cissy made her choice when she chose the Dark Lord over her husband and son, her death was her own doing._

Outfitted with the most luxurious bed, softest linens, and decorated in pale cream and mauve, the room was a study in both elegance and practicality. Facing east, the room took complete advantage of the morning light…ideal for lifting the spirits and granting full view of the exquisite gardens, now in bursting bloom with lovely spring blossoms. Looking around the room one last time, he checked to make sure all was in readiness, then left…to finally bring her home.

* * *

The first night in a new home was always difficult…more so for Meresel because of the circumstances under which she had come to her former residence. Fear was as potent an emotion as love…and fear was an emotion she had an intimate acquaintance with. Full dark had settled on the Manor by the time she and Lucius had made their way up to their rooms after a wonderful meal with Elrond and good conversation in the library after.

"Merie, if you are in need of anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to come to me whatever the time." He held her hands warmly in his, caressing her with his eyes. "My love, I…" he closed his eyes against the rush of love and lust that rolled over him. Pulling her into a gentle embrace, he kissed her brow and set her from him…determined to be the gentleman…not knowing that it was the lady's wish to spend the night securely wrapped in her love's arms. "I will see you on the morrow, love." And he watched her enter her room and close the door with the finality of the tomb.

Tossing and turning, Lucius finally gave up trying to sleep and, fluffing the pillows beneath his head, turned on the light and picked up the latest Stephen King novel that Draco had gotten hooked on while he and Luna were on holiday in America. His eyes were finally starting to cross with fatigue when he heard a quiet cry. Placing the book beside him on the bed, he rose, and padded in bare feet to the door, peeking out into the hall. Nothing… Turning to close his door and return to bed, he again heard the low keening. _Meresel…_ In a dash, he was at the connecting door, flinging it wide in a desperate attempt to get to her.

She was writhing on the bed, twisted in the sheets with sweat pouring off of her. Ragged breathing was interspersed with moans and cries of anguish that tore at his heart, bringing back memories of what she'd suffered in the cell next to his for all those months. He gathered her into his arms and softly called her name…

"Meresel…Merie, love…come back, it's alright. I've got you now, Merie…" he kept it up, over and over again until she opened her eyes and saw his face. Then she did something that tore his heart wide open…she reached up and touched his cheek, asking in a quiet, small voice,

"Are you real this time…?"

* * *

At this simple yet profound question, he broke and fell to kissing her with all of the passion he'd kept bottled up for all of these long months, sipping and nibbling her lips as though he were a starving man in the presence of the sweetest of feasts. He tangled his hands in her hair, running his fingers across the pointed tips of her incredibly sensitive ears, eliciting shuddering moans that both excited and enticed further exploration.

He laid her back, pulling apart the front of her silk nightgown, baring her moonbright breasts to his adoring gaze. _Merlin…more lovely than I could ever express…_he lowered his head and took a pearly bud into his mouth, lavishing it with attention as she arched and cried out with the wonder of it. Reaching for the other, he rolled the pebbled nubbin between his fingers as he gently plumped the ripe offering. She began to pull at his silken mane of silver bright hair, trying ever harder to pull him closer…her hips just beginning the age old dance.

"Lucius…" her soft cry was music to his ears.

"Sweet Merie…" his echo was nearly lost in the soft skin of her taut abdomen as he lovingly traced the healing scars she would always carry. Moving ever toward his goal, he drew her gown downward, brushing her thighs lightly with a practiced hand. Kisses were rained down upon trembling flesh as he parted her legs for his touch. Hazy with desire, drunk with passion, she knew not his intent until, shockingly…unbearably…wonderfully…his tongue traced her damp folds and then…"_A!__Na vedui__…__ (1)"_ she cried out in her elvish tongue, completely undone.

Lucius smirked at hearing that, before settling in to feast. Lapping and suckling he held her hips fast as he set about driving her crazy. Her cries grew louder and her head was thrown back, arching her breasts up to his visual pleasure. He hummed in response and it sent a jolt up through her nerve endings that culminated in a shattering climax that brought tears to both their eyes.

He gentled his touch, still keeping her aroused, and kissed his way back up her body to meet her lips in an embrace that nearly cost him his sanity. She was molten fire, and moonlight soft…as fragrant and bright as the spring blossoms in his gardens. Holding her now, his hardness cradled lovingly between straining thighs, he felt as though he were born again…a new and better man rising up from the ashes like a phoenix. Gently, he eased inside her, dropping his forehead to hers as he felt her sheath softly flutter around him.

"_Gods…" _he muttered in a strained voice, before moving in slow passes in and out of her, stroking her while he choked out sweet love words…naughty carnalities from the bottom of his heart…things he wanted to do to her, and have done by her to him…things that made her wetter and hotter beneath him until she was thrusting her hips up to meet his, elven eyes locked onto ice blue. Within moments a crisis of biblical proportions came over them and twin cries, tenor and soprano, echoed in harmonious release.

Lucius lay boneless upon her for just a moment before rolling to the side and pulling her securely to his side, laying his lips on her brow in loving homage to her place in his heart.

"I love you so much, my Merie…" he whispered into her ear, then smiled when she shivered in response.

"_Ce i velethron cuil nîn, Lucius.(2)__"_ she whispered against his neck. "I love you as well."

* * *

_1. Ah! At last… _

_2. You are the love of my life, Lucius. _


	7. Chapter 7

*****Sorry for the length of time between updates, I have had some health issues...a stroke and hospital stays...but hopefully will be updating more quickly than before. Please be patient, some of my other fics have also been affected...*****

**_Part Seven: Dreams_**

Lucius woke from the first sound sleep he'd had since his release from the horrible confines of the wizarding prison. Oft awake in the pre-dawn hours, he had simply resigned himself to insomnia, taking it in his stride as he had all the other inconvenient side-effects of his tenure as the "chief executioner" and right-hand man in Voldemort's inner-circle. Opening sleep-freshened eyes and breathing deep of the fragrant morning breeze, he discovered another truth about himself…he was madly in love…madly, truly, deeply, irrevocably…and now that he thought on it…for the first time in his life as well. Oh, he had loved Draco's mother, loved her as much as a boy the tender age of 21 years can. The fact that they'd remained together all that time…until she'd gotten with child and carried Draco to term…before the Dark Lord declared her unfit to be the mother of the heir to his throne…before Voldemort had her slaughtered and ordered him to wed Cissy…

Unexpectedly, tears welled up in his chest and burned behind tightly closed eyelids and, as though the loving act of the night before had washed away the last remnants of bitter control Voldemort held over him, he was finally able to say the words. _Forgive me, Anne…forgive me for not possessing the strength to fight him…for not having kept you and Draco safe…for not loving you enough…I hold so much in regret now…_

Harsh breaths were breaking free from his chest, where his fists were locked, when small, delicate fingers touched him lightly.

"Lucius, _ce mae(1)?_ /What troubles you so, my love?" at her voice, he turned abruptly and pulled her into his fierce embrace, scalding tears at last breaking free of restraint and pouring forth in a cleansing torrential flow that went unchecked until the poison was leeched clean.

After, they embraced in the aftermath of the fury, weary and tumbled, finding solace only in the presence of one another. Lucius held her close, kissing the top of her beautiful head in grateful thanks for the gift of her comfort, and her body. Touch was what he needed right now, and touch was what she offered. She wrapped him close and murmured into his fine silver-blonde mane,

"_Gerich veleth nîn, Lucius, av-'osto(2)__…__I will not abandon you. Sleep now…sleep…" _ her voice was low, melodic…mesmerizing, and he soon found himself drifting into a quiet place where the dreams were pure, innocent and sweet.

* * *

The trilling of a songbird and a tickling sensation under his nose next awoke the former Death Eater. Opening one eye, his face relaxed into a bemused, besotted grin at the picture his elleth made draped wantonly atop him like that sinfully delectable hot fudge his daughter-in-law drizzled atop his welcome home cake…but THIS, by the gods, THIS was by far and away better!!!

Her walnut brown curls ran amok across his chest and mingled enticingly with his own silver locks. Her cheek was nestled on his shoulder, and her breath…every now and then, her breath stirred the fine hair on his upper shoulder and sent the gooseflesh rising. Closing his eyes he relished the sensation, allowing a shiver to engulf him, feeling himself harden…and twitch with arousal. Softly, he stroked her back, easing her awake on caresses and butterfly kisses. She moved languorously like a satisfied cat, stretching against him, rubbing against him, so unabashedly uninhibited that he was dizzy with it. Her silken thigh wound tight around his, holding him in place as she drove him mad by placing her warm center as close as possible to his throbbing shaft without actually touching it…then lapsing back into her dreams.

His eyes narrowed…evidently, he needed to be more…persuasive. With a slytherin grin, he wrapped one hand around the creamy thigh that was currently wreaking havoc on his nether regions…and tugged it upward. This in turn exposed her center to his questing touch…and he exploited that fact as creatively as possible.

Sliding shaking digits up her opposite thigh he gasped when he felt the heat already radiating from her core. His eyes shut and he clenched his teeth as though in extreme pain, or ecstasy…and gathered the dew he found within those moist, soft petals. Running tender touches up and down her slit, and tapping her clit he had her moaning and writhing in no time at all. Her face inched up and he caught her mouth to his in a carnal kiss that woke her finally, and irrevocably. She pulled his head closer, and wound her body tighter to his, accepting his touches with pleasure and keening with passion.

"_Lucius, a nae, nan aear ar in elin. Si!! Si!!(3)" _her tone seemed to be imperative as she clutched tighter and tighter to him. He may not have understood the words she spoke in her language…but he could understood the intent of them just fine. Tilting her head back a little more, he began to nibble on her throat, nipping lightly and then licking the spot. A groan rumbled in his throat when she arched her hips to move closer to his touch and he obliged her by entering her pulsing sheath with a gentle thrust, absorbing her cry of joy by covering her delectable mouth in a fierce kiss. His fingers were soon drenched with her arousal and he breathed in the delectable aroma of her passion as though it were life giving air…

"Merie, my sweet darling…yes, touch me…please…" he was rendered nearly incoherent by her small hands running down his broad chest followed by her passionate lips nipping…nibbling along the ridged muscles held tightly in check so as to not crush her to him and take her…take and take until he could not take anymore. For he could not bear to see the fear on her face, so he held her tenderly and didn't let himself go…

She smiled into his neck, so…he thought she'd be shocked…that she would break?? She pulled away and blinked down into his shocked gaze. "_Ae anírach, Lucius… cerithon iest gîn(4). _I will do as you askof me, I do not fear you, husband_…" _ He froze, then his iron will broke…and he crushed her to his chest and covered her lips with his, kissing her wildly, commandingly. She opened her thighs and impaled herself on his thickness, forcing a long, ecstatic moan from both of them as she put her petite hands on his broad chest, and began to ride.

He watched through hooded eyes, as her hips rose and fell, graceful…fluid…temptation personified…and he could feel the muscles in his abdomen begin to tighten with the beginnings of his release. He would not, _would not_, come without her…so he grasped her hip in one powerful hand, willing his magic to come forth. She felt the hummm of it, powerful and seductive, and her breath came quickly, showing her excitement, and with it added her own… His head came up then, upon feeling the surge of their combined power coursing through his veins…throbbing, tumultuous, _**addictive**_…his teeth gnashed at the raw hunger it unleashed within him and he thrust heavily into her warm, wet cavern. Her head dropped briefly before it snapped up and he looked into eyes that blazed with inner fire…and she whipped back, taut…screaming his name in ecstasy…trembling around him as he came undone in her arms.

A long while later, they lay replete, sated, exhausted in one another's arms…his hands stroking her tumbled curls, his lips grazing her temple as they whispered sweet love words and healed long seeping wounds.

* * *

1. _Are you well?_

_ 2. You have my love, Lucius, do not fear… _

_ 3. Ah, alas by the moon and stars…Now! Now!!!_

_ 4. If you desire, Lucius…I will do your wish… _


	8. Chapter 8

****My apologies again...I have recently been diagnosed with M.S. and the neurologist has found a (hopefully)benign tumor in the connective tissue between the two hemispheres of the brain. Currently I am unable to work due to symptoms of the disease, and the myriad of tests that need to be performed. I will continue to update this story as I can, and hope that those who have stuck by it, or have alerted it, will remain patient with me...thank you very much.*****

**Herves Vuin**

**

* * *

  
**

**_Part Eight: Daybreak_**

_Two months later_

Luna stretched, rolled, and looked at her husband…then, turning a peculiar shade of pale green, she bolted for the bathroom and was violently ill.

"Luna!" he raced in after her. "Love, are you alright?" his tone was achingly gentle as he held her hair back from her face while she retched and shook. She had been doing this on a daily basis for two months now, and it scared him to death.

If he ever lost her…

Ruthlessly shoving that thought to the darkest recesses of his mind, he helped her up and tenderly washed her white face. "I am going to ask Elrond to take a look at you." He saw her expression tighten and felt the irritation well up in him. He swung her around and lightly shook her, just enough to get her attention. "I know you don't want to take advantage of an old friendship, but this _**cannot **_go on! _Bloody buggering __**hell**_ woman, you are my wife and I love you, doesn't that count for anything?!"

He was breathing like the bellows and she could finally see into his eyes…all the way into his eyes, down to his very soul…and realized what he said was truth. She was suffering needlessly for there was Elrond, living with them for the time being. Reaching up a trembling hand, she cupped his cheek and nodded, before darkness reared an ugly head and she crumpled into his terrified arms.

* * *

Elrond was sitting in the Drawing Room conversing with Lucius and Meresel when a disheveled and obviously distraught Draco burst into the room.

"Draco, what…?" Lucius began.

"Lord Elrond, come quickly…it's Luna. I don't know…" his voice faltered, and the waves of fear were palpable coming off of him. Lucius bolted from his seat beside his wife and grasped his son around the upper arms for support.

"What is wrong with her Draco? I have noticed that the child is not herself lately…" Draco shook off his father's hands and pleaded with them.

"She's ill, very ill. Please, can we talk about this upstairs? She passed out this morning after becoming sick…" Elrond did not need to hear any more.

"Come. Allow me to ease her suffering. I shall endeavor to ascertain the dilemma; there must be a solution to it." He breezed from the room with an air of quiet confidence that had the others feeling marginally better as they followed him up to the couple's chambers.

* * *

That afternoon, after a sumptuous luncheon, Lucius took Merie out for a walk around the Manor's extensive gardens. A balmy breeze blew, odd for England, whose weather runs typically to cold and damp. Birds sang sweetly and the scent of the flowers was intoxicating, Meresel trailed her fingertips over the velvety petals of a fragrant rose as she bent to inhale its aroma. Catching his breath at the picture she made, Lucius could feel himself growing hard and pressing uncomfortably on the front of his britches. Would this desire, this constant wanting _ever_ go away? Merlin, he hoped not, she was the epitome of all that was feminine beauty.

The afternoon sun shone brought out golden highlights in her dark curls, and she looked lithe and graceful in a gauzy green gown that showed off her milk white skin to sheer perfection. Her figure was still much too thin to be perfectly healthy, but it was a damn site better than when she was first released from Azkaban. Just looking at her made his mouth water, his blood run hot, and his sex throb…_gods above, what had he done to_ _deserve this glorious creature's love?_

Meresel straightened and looked over her shoulder at her husband, smiling. Her smile faded as heat flooded her being at the intense expression on his face. "Lucius…_man sa?_ (1)" she asked her tone questioning, her breath quickening.

His voice was tight with need when he answered "_Telo na nin…_my Merie (2)" and he held out his hand to her. She was lost. The desire radiating off of him, the passion in his eyes causing her center to dampen and clench reflexively.

"_An ngell nîn…telethon, herven vuin" _her voice was sex personified and he shivered in response to it. Grasping her small hand in his, he led her into the hedge maze, one of the most intricate and beautiful in the county. At each intersection, he took the opportunity to pull her to him and cover her lips with his own, dominating her small frame with his in a carnal embrace that had them both panting and eager to renew the morning's intimate activities.

Hastening her along, he drew her into the center of the maze where she stood in awed wonder, gazing around at the beauty surrounding them. The floor was a carpet of the softest, greenest grass imaginable, while around the perimeter a variable riot of colors grew in the form of violets, peonies, roses, jonquils, daisies and dozens of other varieties of flora. Statuary rose proud and tall among the greenery, fauns, satyrs, and even Pan himself held a special place here in this magical place. There were several benches to sit on and enjoy a peaceful repast, but neither of them were interested in such a banal activity when there were far more…rewarding things to accomplish on lazy afternoons.

Pulling his wand from his cane, Lucius flicked it over a bench in the far corner of the clearing, where a centuries old tree stood sentinel over the newest statue…one of Meresel herself that Lucius had commissioned while she had been in St. Mungo's. The bench stretched and formed into a huge bed, with decadent linens and sumptuous pillows. Lifting her up into his arms, Lucius laid her on the sheets and then stood…staring at the picture she made of a wanton seductress posing for her lover. Elven eyes, filled with the colors of the forest raked over his body bringing his erection to full attention, and he hissed with discomfort as his trousers went from uncomfortable to downright miserable. Closing his eyes he muttered a soft spell and felt immediate relief as both his garments and hers, appeared on a bench opposite to where they were.

He laid down next to her, his hand seeking out the soft texture of her skin, the silkiness of it under her arms and on the insides of her thighs. Pulling himself up, he bent her knees and spread her legs, sitting between her thighs while facing her. She made a move to sit, but he forestalled that by putting a large hand on her trembling stomach and pushing down lightly.

"Put your hands above your head, my darling, I wish to…" Lucius voiced his desires with eloquent ease.

Meresel daintily licked her lips, then stretched her arms taut enough to thrust her chest up for his adoration. His powerful, yet gentle hand skimmed down her chest to her abdomen, his touch igniting her nerve endings and setting off a smoldering fire. He nipped at her bottom lip, than laved the area with his tongue, alternately sipping and nibbling at her luscious mouth before diving in and burning them alive with scorching heat.

Their tongues dueled for dominance, hers no longer willing to simply bow into submission. As he lay there stunned, she took the advantage to hook a soft thigh around his waist…and expertly flipped him so that HE was on the bottom, and she…_merciful gods, I could be Kissed now and die a happy man…_sat astride him, her moist center resting on his hard length. She moved then, spreading her juices all over him, from root to tip…as she bent forward and kissed him hard. He nearly lost it then. When he reached to grasp her hips and enter her, she lifted her head and grinned.

"_Daro, _Lucius_.__Hen aníron.(4)" _she whispered throatily as she rotated her hips slowly…so slowly that his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he groaned her name. He nodded and kept his hands fisted at his sides. She began at the top of his face, giving him butterfly kisses all over his rugged countenance until he was chuckling with happiness. Then she captured his mouth in a searing kiss of want and need that had them both breathless and panting by the end of it.

"Please…Merie, let me touch you…" he once stated that a Malfoy never begged, well that was before he was wedded to such a powerfully sensual elleth. She sat up, watching him slide out of her slowly, then began to trail her tongue down his powerful chest, nipping his nipples along the way, as he began to thrash and moan in earnest. Reaching his naval, she deflowered it with relish, stabbing the tip of her tongue in and pulling it out; in a clear picture of the sexual act that he had taught her that first night of their joining.

His hiss of pleasure made her shudder with power, and she nibbled further down until…finally…she reached what she wanted all along.

Grasping his hard length in both hands, she gazed down at the weeping tip with a voracious gleam in her eyes, which ordinarily would have sent Lucius into fits of apoplexy if he hadn't known how loving and generous she was. Lowering her mouth to the head, she licked off the precum, eliciting a groan from her sinfully sexy wizard as he thrust his hips toward her teasing mouth, and she smiled…before diving in and swallowing his length to the hilt.

A hoarse shout erupted from Lucius' throat at the feel of her supple tongue running around his shaft, lapping at it as though it were the tastiest of treats. Sliding her head up and down, she dragged her teeth in the barest of scrapings along the top of his length, eliciting gooseflesh all along his body. He held no fear that she would harm him in any way, or cause him pain, her love for him and desire for his pleasure out weighed all concern for herself…she focused one hundred percent on his gratification.

Her perfect small tongue lapped softly, kitten like, at the milky white substance leaking from the slit. Garbled phrases that included words like "_fuck_", "_bloody buggering hell_", and "_Merlin…give me strength_…" ended in a shout when she took it all and began to suckle, holding his dancing hips still as she took all restraint from him at last.

He grasped her head and helplessly pumped his sex into her warm and waiting mouth, as she gently caressed the skin of his hip. He felt the telltale tingling at the base of his spine, and his sacs began to tighten with the imminent explosion…

He pulled her from him and crushed her mouth with his in a firestorm of love, lust and need. Pulling her up to straddle him, he parted her thighs wide and pushed his hand between to stroke her silken folds deliberately…throwing her immediately into the tempest. Crying out, she pushed herself down on his fingers, grinding her mons in rhythm and throwing her head back in ecstasy.

"Lucius… _hortho, _ _telin…a!(5) _" her melodious tones were raised in triumph as she sat tall and proud above him, a goddess in the dappled sunlight with her walnut curls splayed over her slender shoulders, and her breasts lightly bouncing as her hips rotated. She mesmerized him with her beauty, her innocence and her love for him…suddenly unable to bear being apart from her for another moment he withdrew his talented fingers, and before she could protest, filled her to the brim with himself.

She gave a choked cry that ended in a gasping laugh, and she leaned over to press a loving kiss on his lips which pressed him farther inside her…causing them both to moan with pleasure. Control snapping at last, he grasped her hips and rolled until he was cradled between her widespread, straining thighs. Placing his hands on either side of her, beneath her upraised knees, he straightened his arms; pulling her legs up and back toward her face, opening her up fully and completely to him. She blinked up into his face, unable to move…completely at his mercy as far as the depth and speed of his thrusts. He looked savage, hair wild around a face set into lines of deep erotic thrall. A small frisson of fear added to the excitement running through Meresel's veins in that timeless moment before the heavy thrusting hips drove all thought from her mind.

She felt every bump, ridge and curve of his thick member as it was dragged through the exquisitely sensitive tissues of her sheath. Her head tilted back and her breath grew choppy as time itself seemed to slow to a crawl…push in…hesitate, hold, _oh gods…_pull out…hesitate, hold…push in…hesitate, hold longer, push again, _Ah, gods!! _ Pull out slowly…hesitate, hold…_panting, Please…_relentless pushing again, hold, gently fingers rub clit as he pushes HARD…

She breaks, shatters and cries out in his arms, his name a prayer on her lips. "_A,_ Lucius! _Manen pelithon gen peded i gen melon?_ (6)" Her words alone throw him over the edge of the cliff and he joins her in the freefall, shuddering as he spilled his warm seed into her womb.

They lay replete and spent, entangled within one another's arms, the warm breeze drying the glistening droplets of perspiration that dotted their bodies. His hand was still buried within her curls, cupping her delicate head as it rested on his shoulder. Every so often her lips would skim over the skin on his chest causing a residual shiver to shake his nervous system…_mmm delicious_.

"I am not complaining, husband…but did this display of your masculine prowess have anything to do with your son's happy news this morning?" She smiled to take any potential sting from the words, and bent to graze his throat with her small, white teeth.

Catching his breath at the unique sensations, he remonstrated, "I do not, my dear, need a reason to make love with my wife…" at her arched eyebrow he sighed. "I am too young to be a grandfather. What will the papers say? I married a woman half my age and became a grandfather…pathetic."

Her tinkling laughter stopped his tirade in its tracks. "I fail to see the humor in the situation…" he began before she silenced him in a most satisfactory way. When she finally lifted her lips from his, she replied somewhat breathlessly, "I am nearly four hundred and twenty of your years old, Lucius…you are still a young man. Elrond assures me that you will live as long as I with your Veela blood…we were destined for one another, my Lucius, we are true mates."

He grinned, indeed how could he not? To be bound to this exquisite creature was not a hardship, it was a dream…a joy beyond reckoning. She was talking again…

"As for being a grandfather…it is an honor to bear children, there has not been a child among the Elves in almost four hundred and twenty years." His face mirrored his astonishment at this bit of news.

"Why so long?" he asked. She looked down at their clasped hands, hesitating…and he put two and two together. "You were that child weren't you?" she refused to look up at him, but he could feel the tension invade her body. "Merie…_tíro nin(7)_" his voice was infinitely gentle and patient, and he tipped her chin up to look into her shimmering eyes. "Tell me…" softly he commanded.

* * *

1. Lucius…what is it?

2. Come with me…my Merie

3. With joy…I will come, beloved husband

4. Stop, Lucius. I want this.

5. Lucius…hurry, I'm coming…ah!

6. Ah, Lucius…how can I tell you how much I love you!"

7. Merie…look at me


End file.
